Jacob's Demon -e

Prologue

January 2005

This is a novel of "alternative reality" set about five years after the government imposed a military state on the world to head off the supposed Y2K chaos at the turn of the century.

Philadelphia

The scientist studied the numbers on the paper setting atop the lab counter, wondering why he couldn't figure out the one clue he needed to create the world's most important substance.

"Here's the newspaper, Prof," said one of his student research assistants, as he handed it to him.

"Humph," mumbled Dr. Jacob Ben Abrams, senior professor and researcher. He took the paper from his graduate student and shoved it inside one of the manuals on the counter to set it out of the way. He spun around on his stool and stuck a vial inside a scintillation counter and waited for it to process, his mind on the formula. Minutes later, he turned to another of his research assistants and asked, "Baker, would you mind grabbing my brown bag out of the fridge?"

"Yessir." The student walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out the sack. "It's a wonder you don't mix up your lunch with your research studies."

Ben Abrams grunted, took the bag, and returned to the stool to read while eating his tuna fish, cheese and mayonnaise sandwich, as he did every day. He flipped open the book near him and reached for the newspaper. It was part of his penchant for details that had him preferring small tidbits over feature articles when his eyes caught sight of a photo buried deep in the "world" section of the newspaper. He read the caption underneath the picture:

A. Natas Ka Live, Coordinator of the Multinational Committee for Global Unification, sits at a desk with the Israeli Prime Minister to sign a peace treaty, guaranteeing Israel protection from all adversaries. Standing behind them are U.S. President Jonathan Jackel, Spain's Juan Carlos, as well as Prince Charles, Rockefeller, DeLorean, and Hapsburg.

Farther down the page was information in a brief article that caught Jake's interest:

Later in the day, Rockefeller will present a talk to the Trilateral Commission and the Bilderbergers encouraging the name change for A. Natas Ka Live from "Coordinator" to "Federation President."

"Figures," grumbled the scientist, studying the picture, staring at the tall, youthful figure of the 55-year-old man named A. Natas Ka Live. In his every fiber, the scientist sensed something wrong

Another RA walked into the spacious lab carrying a piece of paper. He handed it to Jake while saying, "It's a Russell Langston from Alchemy Technology. The phone number's on there."

Jake waved the paper away. "I keep telling those people at Al-Tech that I'm not interested in any offer from them. Throw the paper away."



Chapter One

Philadelphia March 2007

Jake and a colleague sat at one of the tables in a university dining room, talking about scientific research, the students, academic freedom, and a slew of other topics they seemed to jumped to.

"So, how's your research going?" the professor and agricultural research scientist named Robert Bouchard asked Jake.

"Fine, fine. I'm about there. It'll make me a fortune."

Bouchard shook his head. "You lucky son-of-a-gun. I wish I had developed something that valuable. What do I do all day? Study farm animals and crops." Bouchard bit into his sandwich. "What's your formula worth, Jake? A million?"

Jake snorted. "Billions . . . because it'll cure the biggest plague we have today." He pushed his plate away. "But if it's not used right, it'll wipe out civilization, so I'm not ready to sell it yet."

"Billions! Good God, Jake! But you have to sell it to a manufacturer because you could never mass produce it yourself."

Jake nodded. "A couple of pharmaceutical companies have been bugging me for years to sell my formula to them but I won't until I build in some safeguards. Decimating the planet because of its improper usage is not what I had in mind. I want to save people, not kill them."

"What pharmaceutical companies?"

Jake shrugged. "Al-Tech is one."

"They're the biggest and could certainly afford any dollar sign you put on it."

Jake stood, signaling he was ready to walk back to his lab. Bouchard got in step with him.

"This must be your time, Jacob. Everything's going your way. The dean and your department chair cater to your desires, you'll soon be probably the wealthiest man in the world, and you have a beautiful wife and--"

"I worry about the world."

"You're neurotic. You worry about everything. Look at the time we're living in, Jake; it's the best it's ever been. In the last three years we've had a bullish economy; peace and cooperation reign among all countries; an extremely low crime rate coupled with even lower taxes and a high employment rate have made the world safe and prosperous to live in. Even the road rage of the Nineties is gone, When President Ka Live took office in 2005, he had imposed curfews, made welfare workers find jobs, instituted a fair national health system, saved Social Security, and did a number of other near miracles to make the world safer and healthier. Through him, leisure activities have returned to a workaholic society as has spending more time with family members since workers can make more money in less time, allowing us to do things with spouses and children. You know, Jake, when you get right down to it, Ka Live has given this world outright euphoria. Everywhere you go people are nice, upbeat, kind, honest; they really seem to like one another and life as a whole. At last, there is hope again for a world that, until he had taken office, was going sour.

"I can see you're a Ka Live fan."

"Who isn't? Everyone loves him. He's done a lot of good for all of us." Bouchard stopped in front of his building. "Don't you like him?"

Jake hunched his shoulders. "I'm not sure I trust him . . . even with his 'miracle three-plus years in office,' as you refer to it."

Bouchard laughed, turned to go into his building, paused, said, "Billions, huh?"

Jake smiled, walked on toward his lab.